


Yearning

by RoswellSmokingWoman



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alpha Will Graham, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 16:26:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21139667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoswellSmokingWoman/pseuds/RoswellSmokingWoman
Summary: Hannibal always loved Will, but could never resist manipulating him. And so, even against his own heart, Hannibal plays a dangerous game with Will from the beginning. One that results with in Will in prison, and Hannibal pregnant.ONESHOT





	Yearning

Before, the meaning of his art was personal to him. It displayed his interpretation of the person’s soul, a message for all to see. Hannibal was not an evil god, but a god of justice. His morals were above others; most humans didn’t see rudeness with disgust as he had. But it was the root of all other vices in humanity, and he saw it best to eradicate the truly disgusting. But he couldn’t just murder them; that was too simple. The display was the most important; it was a warning sign as well as an appreciation of the beauty of the dark and morbid. His art was divine, and Hannibal was not ashamed to be proud of it. He alone appreciated it for so long, after all.

But it had all changed once one Will Graham had come into his life. Hannibal remembers when Will called his artwork beautiful; his heart swelled like never before. He didn’t want to admit it to himself then, but this was the moment that he had begun to irreversibly fall in love with Will Graham. Working so close to him, Hannibal was sometimes worried that Will would find out too soon. But Hannibal’s person-suit was too convincing, and his omega second gender allowed him to stay hidden from suspicion.

Though, at times, the omega inside of him wanted to display everything to Will. An alpha. This was the troublesome bit for Hannibal, other than the love. Will’s alpha status was disgusting to Hannibal, who preferred autonomy. The omega was fiercely independent and extremely successful, two qualities that allowed him to evade falling into an alpha’s claws. Hannibal was not interested in having an alpha; he did not need a guardian, protector, or controller. Hannibal would be the one to manipulate and control, always.

Until Will. The smallest smile on Will’s face could bend Hannibal’s will. Hannibal even cooked for him; not just to watch him eat human. He cooked for him to nourish the alpha and display care. It wasn’t how Hannibal had cooked before. Hannibal proudly showed of his home, to show the alpha how much he was worth. But Will didn’t care much for these things, Hannibal knew. Will cared about something else, about the mind of the person next to him. Hannibal cared quite a bit about Will’s mind too, that dark and twisted empathy that sang out to Hannibal and drew him in. Will’s empathy was a siren song, and Hannibal couldn’t resist it’s soft, enticing melody.

Which is why Hannibal stopped taking the suppressants and birth control. It hadn’t been intentional at first. But over time, Hannibal realized that he couldn’t bare to lose this game; he had to entrap Will. He had to claim the alpha as his; instead of the alpha claim him. That was Hannibal’s game.

It started with the evening office visits. Hannibal would sit across from Will, tempting him with questions of altered morals, god, and death. Will always indulged him. Then, it was the small touches that let Will know Hannibal was partial to him. The touches always seemed to linger on Will’s skin long after he left Hannibal’s office. It continued on to wine and dinners, all of which Hannibal denied any climax. He would push Will in different ways. He would make him into his monster first, manipulating the encephalitis. And then, he could show Will everything. He would let Will peer into the depths of his soul, and Will would adore every bit of him. This is what Hannibal needed.

If only Will hadn’t tried to draw him out with the use of Abel Gideon, Hannibal’s plan would have played out perfectly. If Will hadn’t brought Abel Gideon in the haze of rut and encephalitis, Hannibal would have had time to allow Will to meet his true potential.

Hannibal stands across from Will and Abel Gideon. Will asks, with pain contorted on his face, if it is Garret Jacob Hobbs who Will has dragged to Hannibal’s home. And Hannibal, with pain lurching in his heart, manipulated the scene. Will passes out from a seizure; Hannibal lets Abel Gideon go. How this moment could have played out differently.

****

When Will wakes, he notices soft sheets on his body. The room is large and extravagant. For a moment, he feels tempted to go back to sleep. But, he’s pulled from the lure of sleep by the creek of a chair. Will looks to his left, to see Hannibal standing from the chair. “Your rut hasn’t broken yet; it will return soon. For the next several minutes you should have some clarity of mind. You passed out in the middle of our session, Will. It was unwise to come here during your rut.”

Will shakes his head, “I swore Garret Jacob Hobbs was there. I found him, Hannibal,”

“No, Will. You came to my home for an emergency session, where because of your oncoming rut you became agitated. The agitation progressed to hallucinations and your had a mild seizure. These are all symptoms of delayed rut. Have your ruts been absent recently?”

“For well over a year. I had been suppressing them, in order to gain more clarity.” Will sits up from the bed, a kind of lust stirring deep in his belly. “I shouldn’t be here right now. You’re a—”

“I am an omega, this is true. But I would like to take care of you. I have to; you can’t get home by yourself in this state. You’re a danger to yourself and others on the road.” Hannibal approached Will and brushed away a few of the curls clinging to his forehead.

Will closed his eyes, reveling in Hannibal’s soft touch. “Hannibal, I’m afraid of what I could do to you.”

“There’s nothing to fear, dear Will.” Hannibal responded. “I’ve wanted you for quite some time.”

It’s then that Will lunges at Hannibal in the haze of his rut and pulls Hannibal into the bed. He rips of Hannibal’s clothes with his teeth, discarding them onto the floor. “Omega,” Will mutters against the nape of Hannibal’s neck, smelling the glands. He notes how fertile Hannibal is from the smell of him, almost as if he’s on the brink of heat himself.

Against his logic, Will continues to take Hannibal as his. He pressed his mouth against Hannibal’s. Hannibal’s lips are soft and warm, inviting Will’s tongue in. Hannibal removes Will’s clothes, and as he does, Will further devolves.

“Present for me,” he demands of Hannibal.

Hannibal does as he asks without a protest. He had wait so long for this; he needed this union of them. He had finally found him, his _mate_. His heart swells with love and happiness at this moment.

Will enters him slowly, stretching out Hannibal’s hole with his large cock. Hannibal mewls out in ecstasy, and at this Will pushes into Hannibal harder.

“I’m going to breed you,” Will whispers into Hannibal’s ears. “You’re going to be so full of my seed, you’ll look like you’re pregnant. It’ll have to take.” He thrusts into Hannibal harder, and Hannibal becomes lost in the fantast of carrying their pup.

This is what Hannibal wanted the most, his desire deeply buried in the sea of manipulation and corpses, he wanted a secured legacy made from the joining of like minds. He comes as Will’s knot swells inside of him, collapsing onto the bed. Hannibal wishes this moment could last forever. Unexpectedly, in the final moments as Will comes, he bites down into Hannibal’s neck.

Hannibal lets out a moan in response, bright flashes of colors in his eyes, he’s swallowed by a sea of ecstasy. “Oh, my Will,” he gasps out.

“My ripper,” Will breathes into Hannibal’s ear. “I’ve finally captured you.”

The tables had turned. With tears threatening to spill from his eyes, Hannibal reaches to the nightstand and removes a bottle and cloth. Will, in his bliss, doesn’t question the movements. He has to do this, Hannibal tells himself. He always knew this could be an outcome, even if he didn’t want it to be this way.

****

When Hannibal sits across from Bedelia, he doesn’t expect to be so raw in front of her. He doesn’t expect that he would cry; she had never seen him cry before. The monster she had seen showed few emotions, and those that he showed were controlled. He was an atypical omega, though his hobbies often gave the guise of normalcy. Bedelia is shocked at the display.

“Will Graham has asked to see me,” Hannibal begins. The emotions are subdued, though Hannibal can’t hide the heartbreak he harbors.

When Bedelia doesn’t reply, he continues. Bedelia is coaxing him, a tactic she uses often. “I would like to see him, I continue to be curios about the way he thinks despite all that happened.”

“He’s still influencing you. Will Graham asking to see you betray his clear intent to manipulate you?”

Hannibal sees her game, the one where she knows who is truly guilty and who is not. “And if I agree to see Will?”

“It betrays your clear intent to manipulate him.”

Hannibal knows that she’s right. It’s the reason why he keeps her as his psychiatrist; her ability to understand who he is without running away. She knows she can’t, and so he keeps her in order to listen to her impression of him. He’s satisfied when she’s right. “I miss him,” Hannibal finally gives in.

“Is it possible you’re confusing your needs with those of your patient’s?”

Ah, there it is. The question that implies she knows. “Will was never just a patient.”

“He’s changing your behavior and you’re hoping you can change his.”

“I only wanted to help Will,” he offers. This is true; he wants will to be who he is.

“The way we think is flawed, but the flaws are systematic. Even when irrational, we are predictable. You’re obsessed with Will Graham.”

“I’m intrigued,” he dodges. Hannibal wants to avoid the next topic. He must.

“Obviously. He’s going to take advantage of that. He already has. He nearly cost you your reputation.”

Hannibal is irritated. “My reputation is intact.” For the briefest moment, he doesn’t care for his reputation.

“For the time being.”

Hannibal lets the silence sink in between them following her words. He doesn’t truly care if she’s correct. “Will is my friend,” he finally tells her.

“Why? Why is he a friend?”

“He sees his own mentality as grotesque but useful, like a chair of antlers. He can’t anticipate his thoughts. He can’t block them. He can’t repress who he is. There’s an honest in that I admire.”

“But is he just a friend?” she finally asks him, leaning in. “Or is there something else that you’re harboring for him?”

That’s when the tears betray him, spilling over his eyelids. “Don’t we all have secrets, even from our psychiatrist?” Hannibal places the untouched rose on the table in front of them.

****

When Hannibal sees Will in the prison, Hannibal remains calm. “Hello, Will,” he begins.

“Dr. Lecter.” It’s a cold greeting filled with resentment.

“Lost in thought?”

“Not lost. Not anymore. I used to hear my thoughts inside my skull with the same tone, timbre and accent as if the words were coming out of my mouth.” Will is haunted, hurt.

“And now?” Hannibal can’t help but be intrigued.

“Now my inner voice sounds like you. I can’t get you out of my head.” It was the bond, Will knew. It was the bond that formed between them when they copulated, he couldn’t forget.

“Bonds can sometimes involve a breach of individual separateness.”

“A blurring of self and mate?” Will offers. The word mate sounds foreign on his tongue.

“Yes,” Hannibal responds. There’s a warmth in his heart at the word, mate.

“But you’re not my mate. The light from a mated pair won’t reach us for a million years. That how far away from it we are. I don’t want you,” Will wishes he could spit at Hannibal’s face, but he can’t bring himself to do that act.

“I imagine it’s easier to believe I am responsible for those murders than it is to accept that you are.” This is how it must be Hannibal tells himself. He must preserve himself, even if it means letting Will go. One night shared between them was all that Hannibal could allow himself. He must try to find happiness in that.

****

Hannibal rubs a hand over his abdomen as he sits at the dinner table, alone. He once adored this life of solitude, enjoying each of his meals. But not the meat turns sour in his mouth as he thinks of Will sitting in the cell. He feels an emptiness in the pit of his stomach. Hannibal thought at first that their child growing inside of him would soothe the loneliness, but he can’t bear the thought of it being born without its father.

For now, he’s thankful that he’s not showing. Jack is unsuspecting. He could find a suitable partner in the meantime, a lesser alpha that wouldn’t notice the child growing inside of him until later in the relationship. He would frame it as an accident of their first copulation. This is how it must be, because his bond to Will is a burden on Hannibal’s life. He had been foolish to indulge in his feelings. He actively chooses to remain stoic now. He returns to calculating; it’s easier this way.

That choice is reversed when Will sends Matthew Brown to kill him. Hannibal is proud of Will; this is more than anything a sign that Will does harbor feelings for him. It would be easy to turn anger into adoration. But Will needs a trigger.

This is why Hannibal eventually chooses to be with Alana. It’s an easy choice; one that he knew was always an option should he ever have to take an alpha. She accepts him easily, proud of finally having won him. She isn’t worried at first with his focus on Will Graham.

The game changes when Hannibal can’t bare it any longer. Alana bores him; she’s not suitable at all. He wishes he could plate her for dinner most nights that they share. Once he sees the slightest sign of a bump, Hannibal feels compelled to abandon Alana. It’s not hers, he tells himself. It’s Will’s. In the haze of anger, Hannibal leaves his home. The Chesapeake Ripper must be reborn.

****

Out in the free world, Will refuses to show a glimmer of hope to Hannibal, at first. He gives Hannibal the cold shoulder. When Jack can’t be convinced by Will’s insistence that Hannibal is in fact the Ripper, he realizes that he can no longer act cold towards Hannibal. He must act differently now; he must use the fact that Hannibal is in love with him against Hannibal. It was the only way. Only then, with a confession, could Will finally put the ripper behind bars.

What he doesn’t expect is to find Hannibal sitting across from in the office, a hand on his slightly rounded belly. He can’t remove his eyes from the sight. “Does Alana know?” Will spits at him. He can’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy in his bones, it’s in his alpha nature.

“It’s not hers,” Hannibal responds. “Is it hard to believe that I could produce a life?”

“You end lives, Hannibal,” Will counters. “You create art.”

“Is our child not art?”

“Our child is the culmination of two very ill individuals. It would be a monster upon birth. In a way, maybe you’re carrying death and destruction.”

Hannibal smiles; he knows that Will sees it, too. “Could you accept that?”

Will blinks several times, mulling over the question. He shakes his head, “No.”

With every meeting, Will and Hannibal’s interactions grow. Against Will’s plan, he finds himself enthralled by Hannibal Lecter. His every waking thought is of the man, of the image of their future. The more they speak, the more he becomes trapped in Hannibal’s intricate web of manipulations. And yet, Will cannot help but feel for the man of beauty and destruction. It’s all too enticing for Will. He begins to see Hannibal’s thoughts. In a way, they are perfection. Each and every one of his plans are poetry to Will’s ears, and Will must do his best to resists.

And yet, he convinces Jack of Hannibal’s identity. He pushes Jack to pursue Hannibal. Jack at first couldn’t believe that a pregnant omega would be the Chesapeake Ripper; it was simply too unbelievable. But Jack eventually believes Will, as he always had. Seldom had Will been wrong about a murder, and in this case much of the evidence did point to Hannibal Lecter. And so, they devise a plan. A plan that involves an imprisoned Hannibal Lecter with Will on the other side of the glass staring back.

At the same time, Will devises a plan with Hannibal to run away. It’s a dream, one that he lets himself get lost in whenever they speak of it. Hannibal prepares a special dinner for this occasion. The meal is seductive, Will must admit. But Hannibal sees that Will may be setting him up; even now, he cannot trust him. This fact worries him, and the worry is echoed by their child’s kicking in his abdomen.

“When the time comes, can you do what needs to be done?” Hannibal asks him.

In that moment, Will is sure that the choice is easy. It is Hannibal. It always has to be Hannibal. And so, Will rises from the table and takes Hannibal’s hand into his. He pulls Hannibal up into a kiss, one the deepens quickly. Hannibal had not expected this, having not touched Will since their child’s conception. The kiss wasn’t unwelcome; Hannibal had been waiting a long time for it.

“Does this mean you’ve chosen me, after all?” Hannibal mutters against his mouth, “Me over the life you’ve built for yourself with the FBI?”

Will doesn’t respond; he instead takes Hannibal and bends him over the table, Hannibal’s swollen belly hanging low. “I’ve missed us,” Will tells him. The words are sweet, and Hannibal is sure that Will means them as he says them.

“I’ve miss us, too,” Hannibal responds, waiting for Will’s swollen alpha cock to enter his aching hole. He’s felt so empty for so long. He could only ever be fulfilled by Will Graham.

Will thrusts into him slowly, allowing himself to savor the feeling of his cock against the slick walls. “I needed this. I’ve needed you,” Will moans out to him. It’s a sick confession, a sin that must escape his lips.

Perhaps too soon, Hannibal comes at Will’s words. Will comes soon after, and they’re left naked lying on top of Hannibal’s dinner table. Will promises to never leave him. Hannibal promises that he trusts will. They don't speak of I love you's, because they feel the words don't suffice. Instead they let the silence between them speak, as they stare into each other's eyes.

****

Hannibal having packed to leave, is awaiting Jack at the home. Will would come soon to help. With Jack gone, their escape from the United States would be easy. They would have a few days, maybe more, before Jack is found in the woods.

But Hannibal notices that Will is late. He doesn’t worry yet; it’s only by a few minutes. He wasn’t expecting Jack for another hour. His cell phone rings out, and he picks it up immediately.

“Jack’s coming,” Will voice tells him. Hannibal hangs up the phone. He knows that Will won’t come; it’s in the gravity of his voice.

The doorbell rings downstairs. In only this moment, Hannibal disliked being pregnant. He approached the door as he normally would, so as to not draw suspicion. But when he opens the door, Will is there for him, pointing a gun.

Hannibal blinks twice, unsure of what to say at first. “Am I caught then?”

Will pursues his lips, unable to respond. He walks forward, forcing Hannibal to let him inside.

“And Jack?” Hannibal asks.

“He came through the back. He might have already found what he’s been looking for,” Will tells him. “You’re going to go to the kitchen.”

Hannibal listens, turning around to find Jack standing at the counter, a sealed bag containing a human calf in his hand.

“You did enjoy the osso bucco,” Hannibal comments with a smile.

“How do you live with yourself?” Jack spits at him, “I should have trusted Will. We all thought he was crazy, truly insane, to claim that you were the ripper. But here you are.”

“How does it feel Jack, to finally have caught me?”

“Pretty fucking good,” Jack says he approaches Hannibal, eyeing Will who has his finger on the trigger. “Thank you, Will.”

Will nods at him, before pulling the trigger. The bullet goes through Jack’s skull, and Jack falls back onto the floor.

“That was too impersonal, darling. Would you have wanted to do it with your hands?” Hannibal asks him.

Will pulls him in for a sweet kiss. “I wouldn’t want you in the crossfire. We have something more important to take care of,” Will tells him as he places his hand on Hannibal’s swollen abdomen.

“I thought you were going to turn me in. I always suspected,” Hannibal confesses.

“How could I ever live without you?” Will tells him. “We have to leave soon—others know that Jack was going to be here. They weren’t supposed to. We have a few hours, maybe.”

Hannibal nods as they go to the door, taking the bags out of the closet before they leave. This would be a new life for them, a life Hannibal had always dreamed of.


End file.
